


Just Like Old Times

by BellaBaby2468



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Self Harm, Suicide, Wincest - Freeform, attempted suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 09:08:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellaBaby2468/pseuds/BellaBaby2468
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam goes to college. John dies. Dean is hopeless</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Like Old Times

It had rained that day. The day that dad died. The day that everything had fallen apart. Sam had no idea, he was halfway across the country at school. He probably wouldn't care. 

A week later, Dean had sat in the wet grass of the cemetery after everyone had left the funeral and cried for hours. The soft, misty rain surrounded him and clung to his thin shirt. He didn't know how anything could be okay again, didn't see any hope. He started to shiver, he was soaking wet. He couldn't see more than ten meters in front of him. He remembered the small knife in his back pocket, he had bought it the day dad died. He grabbed it and gazed at it as the cool mist kissed along its length.   
Sammy had left, and that had ripped him apart. Now dad was gone, and he had nothing left at all. What point was there in living anymore? He touched the blade to the smooth, cool skin of his forearm. Freezing rain was slowly seeping through his clothes and dripping from his hair.   
In that moment, Dean decided to give up. Dean decided there was nothing here for him anymore. So he took the hope that he had been clinging to ever since the day Sammy left… And let it go. He dragged the blade across his skin, slashing a deep gash into his arm. The blood flowed down his forearm and trickled from his fingertips. The cold made him numb, so all he did was stare at the gaping wound.   
He brought the knife up again, and brought it down across his arm once more, deeper than the last. Now his arm was covered in thick layer of blood, and he knew he was going to die.   
He leant back against John Winchesters headstone, thinking about every single time he had woken Sammy from a nightmare, every time he had slept in the same bed as him, soothing him. He was the only one that could push the nightmares away. Without him, Sam never slept for more than a half hour without screaming and crying for Dean. They had been inseparable, joined at the hip. He was always there for Sam, dad never was. Sam was everything, so now he had nothing. He flicked his eyes up to the mist, and just as his vision started to dim, he saw an Angel.

 

"DEAN! DEAN! Please oh god, please please please Dean! Please! Open your eyes!". Dean knew he was dead now. He had killed himself. But he heard Sams voice, how? His eyes fluttered behind closed lids, and he heard a frantic gasp of breath. "Dean? Dean baby? It's okay Dean, it's okay. I'm here, I'm here, everything's okay". Dean kept his eyes closed, and tried to tentatively flex his body, but found something heavy pinning his waist down. His eyes slowly fluttered open, to see Sams face just a few inches from his own.   
He must be dead, he thought. He must be in Heaven, because his brother couldn't be here, he didn't care about him anymore. Sam spoke then. Softly, as if he were speaking to a child. "Dean?" his hand gently stroked Deans cheek "It's going to be okay. Everything's alright. Do you understand me?". Dean started to whimper, and so Sam touched their foreheads together. "I'm here, I'm here. I'm not going to leave you Dean". At this moment, Dean realized it was Sam that was ontop of him, pinning him to the bed. He was straddling him, and for some reason, Dean didn't mind. He even found it comforting.  
They stayed in their silent embrace for a few minutes before Dean started to think more clearly. "Sam?" he slowly croaked out, "Sam, am I dead? Is this Heaven?". Sam pulled back a few inches to look Dean in the eye, "No". As Sam recalled what had happened, his face was slightly twisted with pain. "You were bleeding all over dads grave, you were bleeding out… I thought I'd lost you. Your body was freezing. You were covered in blood and I… I…" he was choking up and had to momentarily stop to compose himself. " I picked you up and carried you to the car. Your heart was beating so softly, hardly at all. I took you here, ran at least twenty red lights. As I carried you inside, your heart stopped." a small tear fell onto Deans cheek. "I gave you CPR, and a blood transfusion from me. By some miracle, your heart came back to life beneath my hands". Sam was looking at him like he had just grown wings. The look he gave him, was so full of love that Dean could hardly handle it.   
Dean had to ask, it was clawing at his insides. "Sam… Sam why are you here? You left us. You left… Me." he started to choke up "I thought you didn't care anymore". Deans tears were streaming down his face, over his lips. Sams face was full of apologies, guilt and pain. "No Dean, no. No. I'm so so sorry. I missed you every day, I tried to call but I could never build up the courage. I was so afraid you thought I was stupid for running away. Weak. That I was just your geeky little brother that abandoned his family for some stupid dream. I thought you didn't care about me anymore, you never called". They were both crying, out of both sadness and joy. Dean brought his hand up to feel Sams hair, "I loved you. And I missed you every day. I didn't call because I thought you didn't care about me anymore" he looked deep into Sams eyes, stroking his hair. Sam slowly smiled, and Dean smiled back.   
After a few moments, Sam slowly leaned to the side and rolled off of Dean. He lay on his back next to him and Dean instinctively lifted his arm (the undamaged one), and wrapped it around Sams shoulders, under his arm, and around his waist. Sam fitted his head into the spot under Deans chin that seemed to have been made just for him, and wrapped his arm around his waist. They lay there like that for hours. They were calm and at peace, just like they used to be after Dean woke him from a nightmare. The soft rain surrounded the hotel room, pressing up against the windows. But the two Winchester brothers were safe and sound, curled up in each others arms. Just like old times.


End file.
